<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Things We Have In Common by storiesaboutvan</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600955">The Things We Have In Common</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan'>storiesaboutvan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DC - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bucky and Helena will be bros, Canon-Typical Violence, Cap!Sam Wilson, F/F, F/M, Marvel AND Birds of Prey, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, She/her pronouns for reader, bisexual reader, brief misogynist language used by the bad guys, other Marvel/DC characters mentioned but not within scenes, so many fanfic tropes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:53:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600955</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Living in Hell’s Kitchen, it was only a matter of time before you witnessed something you shouldn’t have. But when both The Winter Soldier and Huntress want to take you somewhere safe, who will you choose to protect you? Why not have both?! It’s a bisexual, polyamory fanfic trope dream!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes &amp; Reader, Bucky Barnes/Reader, Helena Bertinelli &amp; Reader, Helena Bertinelli/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Things We Have In Common</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>We don’t have heaps of Helena (Birds of Prey specific) content to base characterisation on, so I mostly went with a little unhinged/socially still learning/soft on the inside kind of vibe. Bucky’s pretty much the same, but he’s got a few years of experience with the real world, so he’s a little more practiced at normality.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Look, it was inevitable that you would end up in some sort of life-threatening situation eventually. Among a myriad of reasons, the two most prominent were 1) you had a tendency to ignore common sense, and 2) you lived in the crime-riddled Hell’s Kitchen. So, when you heard deep voices speaking in angry but hushed tones, it didn’t come as a surprise.</p><p>It was a little past 1:00 am, and you were walking down a street with a couple lights smashed out. Most of the blocks around there were like that, so it wasn’t like you could’ve have dodged the darkness, even if you were trying.</p><p>When the voices registered, you slowed your walking. The soles of your runners were silent as you made your way down the sidewalk. Up ahead, you could make out shadows cast from an alleyway. At the junction of your street and the alley, you stopped and listened.</p><p>“We can give ‘em anova’ couple hours,” one voice suggested.</p><p>Another, firmer, “He’s had enough fuckin’ time. Take 'im instead. String him up.”</p><p>Although you definitely knew this was the wrong place to be at certainly the wrong time, you didn’t try to sneak away. Instead, before you even really knew what you were doing, you peeked around the corner.</p><p>Two men, both hulking masses, were standing next to a sleek black car. You watched as one moved to the boot of the car. As soon as it was popped open, you could hear his pleading whimpers. Despite being muffled by what you assumed was probably tape over the mouth, the words were clearly those of a bargain.</p><p>While the man dragged the victim inside the building via the side alley fire escape, the other opened the back passenger car door.</p><p>“Sir,” he said, a faux formality taking over his voice. “Got 'im inside now, Boss. Gonna have him all strung up for ya.”</p><p>A unimpressed snort echoed out of the car, followed by the source - a very, very recognisable man. You felt bile rise up from your stomach and puke its way into your mouth. You swallowed, held back tears, and watched.</p><p>As he straightened out his coat, he ordered, “Good. Make the call,” before disappearing inside.</p><p>You should have moved while the fire escape door slammed shut; the sound could have masked any noise you made. But fear that had creeped in while you weren’t paying attention to yourself suddenly glued you to the spot.</p><p>The remaining man, red faced and mean, pulled a phone from his pocket. “Ah, shh shh shh, now,” he said when the person on the other end picked up. The role played compassion was more terrifying than the, “Shut the fuck up!” he snapped moments later. “He gave ya twelve hours, 'cause he’s fair like that. Went to the meeting spot, and ya stood 'im up! How’s Mr. H. meant to feel?” Someone on the other end. Then, “Well, let’s see what not negotiating with terrorists looks like in the morning, huh?”</p><p>Two things happened simultaneously then. Firstly, an arm was wrapped around your body and a hand cupped roughly over your mouth. Your innate response of kicking and screaming did nothing to help. Secondly, the man with the phone casually looked over, grinning.</p><p>“Fuckin’ took your time, mate. Thought I’d have to get the nosey little bitch myself,” he said, crossing the alley, not avoiding the cigarette and muck filled puddles. He enjoyed the sound of his gun colliding with your head.</p><p>…</p><p> When you woke up screaming, you thought you were going to suffocate. The tape across your mouth made it hard to breath and the amount of snot pouring from your nose was making it worse. The men in the room barely glanced at you in the corner, tied to a chair and left on the mob’s 'to do’ list.</p><p>Their priority was the torture and murder of a man also tied to a chair. He was in the centre of the room though, in the middle of a pool of blood. The chair faced away from you, a small mercy. You watched for movement, but the amount of red was enough of a vital sign reading.</p><p>You remembered his face, recalled what it looked like as they pulled him from the car boot and into the building. It was the mayor’s son - the one in college. You remembered another face too, the one they called Boss, or sometimes Mr. H. … <i>Hammerhead.</i> His face had been on the front page of papers, Twitter feeds, and television screens… An engineered steal skull, rumoured superhuman strength, and a slew of equally unstable men just waiting to be his right-hand-man since his climb to the top of the mobster hierarchy after Kingpin’s fall.</p><p>Whatever the mayor did to piss Hammerhead off, his son paid the price. And you bore witness.</p><p>All you could do was cry as you watched the men talk amongst themselves, skittering around Hammerhead to not get caught in any of the outbursts of rage he was prone to.</p><p>You couldn’t think, couldn’t decide if it would be better or worse to stare him down. But it didn’t matter, he strode over to you, leaving his goons to go silent in his wake. Your eyes stayed down, watching his footprints melt away into the blood.</p><p>Hammerhead ripped the tape from your mouth and you felt disgusted to be grateful; you could breathe. It was those heavy breaths in rather than stoic bravery that stopped you from automatically pleading for your life.</p><p>“Huh… Don’t think you’re a rat,” he said almost dismissively. You continued to heaved in and out. “Rats get gutted,” he added, potentially to get a reaction from you.</p><p>“I'm… I’m not… a rat,” you panted out, slowly getting your breathing balanced.</p><p>“Wrong place, wrong time?”</p><p>You glanced around nervously, feeling the eyes of all the evil men in the room on you. Some watched how your wrists and ankles twisted in the ropes, burning and trapped. Some watched the fear - the sweating and the tears. Some just waited for more blood.</p><p>Nodding, you lowered your gaze again.</p><p>Then, her voice.</p><p>“Oh!” she exclaimed, and your head shot up at the sound of anything but Hammerhead and the men. She looked so small standing at the open door, but so strong, unaffected by the occupants of the room or the blood on the floor. “I just am sorry,” she said, “I didn’t realise anyone was in here!”</p><p>Everyone recognised Scarlet Witch, and everyone drew a weapon and fired it at her. Easily, she raised her hands and warped the metal until the sound of gunfire was no more. The lights went off and it suddenly became apparent to the mob that Wanda Maximoff was not the only Avenger in the room.</p><p>Bullets and metal-on-metal. You felt liquid hit you and the taste on your tongue was metallic. Gagging, you pulled at the ropes again.</p><p>“I got you,” a calm voice offered, suddenly close and untying you. “You weren’t part of the plan,” he said with a half-laugh. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”</p><p>It was pitch black but you nodded anyway. Maybe somewhere in your mind you were thinking logically - if the Avengers turned the lights out, they probably had Stark Tech night vision goggles or something cool. More likely, you nodded instinctively, too disoriented and terrified to talk.</p><p>You were swept up off the chair and out of the mayhem quicker than you could comprehend.</p><p>He didn’t take you just outside, but well beyond the fight. It was quiet, and the cool breeze of the middle of the night was the first thing you properly registered. When you opened your eyes, you were standing at a bus stop across the road from a 7-Eleven. The guy at the counter had his phone up, unaware of the violence happening a few streets over.</p><p>Focussing, you held a hand out to balance. He took it and you looked up. Bucky Barnes was holding his arms out to help you. He watched you carefully, noting the wound on the side of your temple.</p><p>“You’re okay,” he said softly, nodding.</p><p>You nodded back. “I’m okay,” but your voice was cracking, weak with fear.</p><p>“You saw something?” he asked but knew the answer. There was only one reason Hammerhead would have a civilian tied up next to a high profile murder victim. When you choked back tears, Bucky shook his head. “S'okay. You’re okay. I got you.” He stepped closer and let you fall into his arms. He wrapped you up and rocked you gently.</p><p>Partly, he was being sweet, a gentlemen, but mostly he was thinking it through. He couldn’t take you to a hospital or home. It wouldn’t take long for Hammerhead to find you.</p><p>“Sam?” Bucky spoke through coms. <i>Captain America,</i> you thought, a little surprised you could even feel anything but terror. “Got the witness. Gonna take her to the safe-” but when he stopped his sentence abruptly, you froze.</p><p>Squeezing your eyes shut, you screamed an internal plea to all the gods listening. <i>Please don’t let it be them.</i></p><p>“I know you’re there,” Bucky said out loud, very matter-of-factly. He didn’t seem concerned, but there was no response. “You know I’m the Winter Soldier, right? Being a ghost in the shadows is kinda <i>my</i> thing,”</p><p>“Heard you went straight, just the Captain’s sidekick now,” a voice spoke back. You stayed glued to Bucky, too scared to look at where it came from.</p><p>Bucky huffed a little laugh. “Right, so you know that you can’t give you whatever you want,”</p><p>“I’m not asking,” she replied quickly, and a sound you didn’t recognise whizzed by, stopped by Bucky. You looked up, saw a crossbow’s bolt in the fist of his vibranium hand. “A warning shot,” she clarified.</p><p>“You wanna tell me what it is you’re warnin’ me about?”</p><p>You could hear movement, and the wildly stupid curiosity that got you into the situation reared its head; you let go of Bucky to turn around. He stepped in front of you, acting a shield between you and… Who was she?</p><p>Bucky clearly knew her. He continued, “Thought after the whole 'feedin’ Roman Sionis to the fishes’ thing, you were on the right side of the law. Shouldn’t you be shooting your bow and arrow over at Hammerhead’s?”</p><p>“It’s not a fucking bow and arrow! It’s a crossbow! I’m not twelve!” she yelled, trying to catch the rage but failing.</p><p><i>Crossbow. Roman Sionis.</i> “You’re Huntress,” you said, shocking yourself at the sound of your voice.</p><p>Both Bucky and Helena Bertinelli looked at you.</p><p>“Thought it was the Crossbow Killer?” Bucky said.</p><p>“Fuck you, fuckin'… sidekick,” Helena spat back, clearly unsure of the insult.</p><p>“Yeah, you already said that,” Bucky replied.</p><p>Helena didn’t have a plan, she looked from Bucky to you, fixing her gaze on your face. It was unnerving, but not threatening. “What did you see?” she asked you.</p><p>Bucky moved to let you step forward, but he kept close, protective. He wanted to know too, but he hadn’t asked you; he knew you need time to process before being bombarded with questions.</p><p>You wanted to answer, you really did. You wanted to help and you wanted to be of some sort of use to Bucky and Helena, but instead the question just made your nose tingle like it did when you’re about to cry. Then, you cried.</p><p>“Come 'ere,” Bucky said, pulling you back into him.</p><p>Helena awkwardly stepped forward, very much not meaning to upset you. She glanced up at Bucky, who shrugged.</p><p>“I’ve got to take her,” she told him seriously.</p><p>“No,”</p><p>“You can’t protect her like I can,”</p><p>“Think maybe we’ve got a little leg up on you and your friends,” he replied, not taking a dig but simply stating fact. “Helena, right? I know about you. Heard about what they did and how you… got here. Don’t blame you, but… your way… it doesn’t always fix things.”</p><p>She listened to him, watched how he meant what he said and didn’t speak in the patronising tone she was used to.</p><p>“I don’t trust-” she went to say.</p><p>“Anyone? Yeah, I know the feelin’. Believe me… I’ll keep her alive, and when she’s ready she can talk, and we’ll put Hammerhead away,”</p><p>“That’s bullshit,” she snapped, the rage bubbling again. “She testifies, she’s dead. If he can’t find her, he’ll kill her family until she shows up… And, you put Hammerhead anywhere and he’ll just kill his way out, or run things from the inside,”</p><p>“He’s not gonna just go to Rikers. He’ll go to the Raft,”</p><p>“It’s not enough,” Helena stated. Bucky agreed, but he didn’t say so. “You take her, and she’s dead.”</p><p>You looked up at Bucky, who didn’t want to look back at your glassy eyes and Bambi fear. He was prone to loving the broken - and shivering in his arms, clinging to him like you’d die without him - you were the very definition.</p><p>Helena wasn’t unlike Bucky. She watched you and could read the nuances of fear and terror and abject horror. In her mind, she already owed you. From the darkness, she watched you watching them, but she just wasn’t fast enough to stop you being pulled inside.</p><p>“Where will you take her?” Helena asked Bucky.</p><p>“I can’t tell ya that,” he answered, the <i>obviously</i> implied by his tone.</p><p>“I’m coming,” she asserted, stepping forward, digging for something in her back pocket. Bucky looked at her in confusion; it wasn’t what he expected.</p><p>You stood between the two of them, heart still racing. Helena extended her arm and offered a small object to you. You glanced back at Bucky, and he nodded. Against his logical judgement, Bucky trusted Helena. When you took the object, you felt how light it was. The bus stop was illuminated enough that you could see the tiny toy car in your hand. Helena appeared almost embarrassed when you looked back up at her.</p><p>“It's… I don’t know,” she tried, but had trouble.</p><p>Even Bucky Barnes, the man who often found himself in very awkward social situations, could not bear the tension. “Good luck?” he said, trying to help.</p><p>Helena looked at him, again surprised that he wasn’t like every other man she has ever met. She nodded. “Something like that,”</p><p>“Thank you?” you whispered.</p><p>Everyone was silent just in time to hear the Avengers v. Hammerhead and Co. fight break out onto the street.</p><p>“Gimme your phone,” Bucky ordered, holding his hand out to Helena.</p><p>“No,”</p><p>“If you’re comin’ with us, I don’t want fuckin’ Harley Quinn showing up,”</p><p>“I don’t work with her,” Helena replied, confused. “I work with-”</p><p>“Okay, alright. <i>Whoever</i> it is, I don’t need 'em trailing us. Smash it or stay behind.”</p><p>She looked at you then, like somehow you could do something. You felt like you should, so you said, “They took mine.” It seemed to work, because she slid her phone out of somewhere in her coat and threw it against the brick wall behind you with such a force that it shattered.</p><p>Bucky sighed. Another dramatic baby to look after. “And the crossbow.” Before she could argue, an explosion lit up the night sky and reminded them that time was of the essence. Helena threw her weapon into Bucky’s arms with a huff.</p><p>“I’m keeping my knives,” she muttered.</p><p>“Yeah, fine. You’d never beat me in a knife fight anyway. Come on’,” Bucky said, as he replaced the gun slung over his shoulder with the crossbow and reloaded. He looked like a real superhero, and it caught you off guard. He looked <i>dangerous.</i></p><p>“Can I have those?” Helena asked nodding to the night vision googles on Bucky’s head. Her strange bluntness would have amused him if the circumstances weren’t so life or death.</p><p>Bucky handed the goggles over and you smiled as she put them on, looking around with a grin on her face.</p><p>“Sam, we’re on route to safe house…” he said into coms. He knew he should have mention the fact that he’d picked up a Bird of Prey but he didn’t. “Hammerhead got witness’ phone. Gotta put protection on her family.”</p><p><i>Your family.</i> The thought hit you like a ton of bricks. Helena caught you before you can panic or fall.</p><p>“It’s alright,” she said, nodding a little too much. “Sure, ah, that these guys-” she motioned to Bucky then the building on fire in the not-too-far distance, “have lots of experience with this kinda thing. Right? Her family is going to fine, right?”</p><p>Helena’s voice was threatening. Bucky would not have dared say anything to the contrary.</p><p>“Yeah. Course. This will be over in a week, yeah?” he said, trying his best to sound casual. Neither you nor Helena bought it, but when he started to move, you followed along like baby ducks.</p><p>At a car Bucky deemed to be roadworthy but inconspiuous, he stopped and pulled the door open, breaking it in the process. He crouched down under the wheel and began to work.</p><p>A minute later, Helena was crawling out of his skin. He was taking too long. “For fuck’s sake, get out the way,” she said, pushing Bucky aside and hot wiring the car in seconds. She looked at him, smug.</p><p>“You could have said you knew how to do it,” Bucky said, deadpan.</p><p>“You could’ve asked,” she replied, equally deadpan. It was almost like watching someone fight with themselves. “I’m driving.”</p><p>Bucky didn’t argue, but he did turn to you, redirecting your path to the backseat, behind Helena. “You’re safest here,” he told you, his voice infinitely softer than when he was speaking to Helena.</p><p>You nodded, letting him move you.</p><p>Bucky could see that you were scared; you still had those Bambi eyes. He took the seat next to you, rather than riding shotgun. You watched him get in the car, too big for the space really.</p><p>Helena mumbled something about being a 'fucking cab’ then asked, “Where to?”</p><p>“Airport,” Bucky replied. “You’re gonna go be okay,” he reassured you. Again. You believed him.</p><p>Helena drove fast, just on the right side of reckless to get to the airport sooner than should have been possible but still avoid detection from police or anyone else looking something out of the ordinary.</p><p>From Hell’s Kitchen to the airport, nobody spoke. You were shaky, continually spooked by the sounds of traffic. Bucky nudged you from the anxiety state and offered his gloved left hand. You took it, grateful.  </p><p>Helena stopped the car in the airport carpark, and on foot Bucky led you through parts of the airport you didn’t know existed. It was like the staff were totally used to superheroes and vigilantes rocking up and doing what they want; nobody stopped you or even bat an eyelid.</p><p>“You just, like, have a plane lying around?” Helena asked with a snort.</p><p>“Aren’t you, like, worth millions?” Bucky shot back, mimicking her sarcastic tone.</p><p>But, she was right. There was a plane waiting. It was a small quinjet, Stark Tech, hidden in a back hangar. You followed Bucky in and glanced behind you, seeing Helena hesitate.</p><p>“I’ll be okay,” you told her, assuming maybe she was having second thoughts getting into bed, so to speak, with an Avenger. “He’ll keep me safe.”</p><p>Bucky reappeared at your side, looking down the ramp at Helena. “She knows that,” he said to you. “She’s not worried 'bout that… What do you need her for?” he asked her.</p><p>Helena had sad eyes, rivalling a puppy in that moment. “I <i>do</i> care…”</p><p>You didn’t understand what was happening. You were tired, and sore, and felt like twenty showers wouldn’t come close to getting you clean. Bucky understood though. While he did believe Helena to be good, it was a chaotic good, and one driven by self-interest more than altruism. So, yeah, she probably did want you to be safe, but she probably wanted to use you as bait for Hammerhead.</p><p>“Come on, girl Barton. Get in. We wanna be gone before the sun’s up,” Bucky said then, breaking the tension.</p><p>“Girl Barton?!” And, yep, she was yelling. “GIRL BARTON? He uses a fucking bow and arrow! Like… Against <i>aliens!</i> He’s-”</p><p>“Still got a higher kill count than the Crossbow Killer,” Bucky interrupted.</p><p>That was enough to get her onboard. Helena stormed up the ramp, grabbing Bucky by his collar.</p><p>“That’s not my name.”</p><p>Bucky looked entirely calm. “Yeah, but look,” he said, pushing off her and nodding to the quinjet’s closing ramp door, “You’re in.” He turned, heading to the pilot’s seat.</p><p>Helena stared at Bucky for a moment, glaring daggers into the back of the seat. When the jet started to rumble to life, she took a deep breath in and out, muttered, “For fuck’s sake,” then looked over at you.</p><p>Although you didn’t clock it, her posture relaxed a little.</p><p>“Are you alright?” she asked, coming closer.</p><p>“I, uh… I don’t know,” you answered honestly.</p><p>Helena nodded, then reached out strangely patted your shoulder, like an adult would a well-behaved child. “You're… doing… good… with all this,” she praised… like… an adult would.</p><p>Bucky wished his serum-enhanced hearing didn’t have to listen to Helena’s awkwardness. It made him think too much of all the things he’d said and done that were equally weird.</p><p>“You should sit,” she said, nodding to herself, finding momentum in her idea. “Sit here.” She pressed her palm to your lower back and gently pushed you into a chair. “Uh… Barnes, where’s the… first aid kit, or whatever?”</p><p>Both you and Bucky heard the hesitation at his name. You thought maybe she forgot it. He thought maybe she was trying to come up with an insult. Helena didn’t know if she was allowed to call him Bucky. Would that be weird? She didn’t know him. They weren’t friends, but they weren’t really enemies either. He wasn’t The Winter Soldier anymore either, despite what he’d said earlier. Fuck. <i>Fuck.</i> But she settled on Barnes, and was relieved to hear it sound normal coming from her mouth.</p><p>Although Helena’s movement around you was tentative, her application of disinfectant cream and bandages was superb. By the time she’d wrapped up your wrists and head and given you pain killers, you felt ready to pass out. Helena smiled at your sleepy face.</p><p>“Sleep,” she said, nodding.</p><p>You nodded back, moving to get comfortable. “Will you stay with me?” you asked, not ready to be bodyguardless just yet.</p><p>Helena nodded, sat in the chair next to yours and watched you try to find a position to sleep in.</p><p>“You should get some sleep too,” Bucky’s voice snapped Helena’s attention from you.</p><p>When Bucky next looked over his shoulder to check on you, both you and Helena were asleep, your head rolled to the side and resting on her bare shoulder. Helena’s face twitched, a nightmare happening somewhere in her head. You looked almost dead, only the slight rise and fall of your chest any indicator of life.</p><p>Bucky wanted to talk to Sam, but he knew he couldn’t. Even if he could, he wasn’t really sure what he’d say. He wasn’t sure why he’d taken it upon himself to be your saviour and protector; hostage and civilian protection had never been his role in missions before. He wasn’t sure why he’d let Helena Bertinelli come along for the ride. As far as he knew, the whole Birds of Prey squad could be after them now, not realising Helena was there on her own accord. God forbid, <i>Harley Quinn</i> could be after them. Nope, Bucky Barnes wasn’t sure how or why he was in that situation, but he was sure of one thing.</p><p>There existed a foreign but warm feeling somewhere in him whenever he looked over his shoulder to check on you. And, another existed too, whenever Helena snapped at him, or he forced a small smile from her with a gentle insult. Maybe he was in that incredibly confusing situation because he simply wanted to be.</p><p>…</p><p> The quinjet ride wasn’t really peaceful. Honestly, you wouldn’t even call what you did 'sleeping.’ It was more… passed out from pain and exhaustion. When Helena nudged you awake, whispering, “Hey… Hey… Uh… Hey,” you were disoriented and still just as tired.</p><p>Straight off the quinjet, which had landed somewhere that didn’t <i>really</i> look like an airport, and into a waiting car, you had no time to adjust. Were you in the U.S.? What timezone was it? Was that snow? Who was this gruff, silent man driving? How did Bucky know him? A million questions, but no energy to ask.</p><p>The man dropped you off on the outskirts of a town that looked like it hadn’t quite made it to the 1900s yet. Bucky pulled American cash from a pocket and handed it to him, not saying a word. “Can we trust him?” Helena asked, watching the car drive away.</p><p>“As much as we can trust anyone,” Bucky replied, clearly not worried about being reassuring. “Come on.”</p><p>Bucky pushed open a large sliding door to the barn-like building you’d been dropped by. Inside was machinery from many eras; it was like a museum. Close to the door, though, was yet another inconspicuous car.</p><p>“More driving?” Helena asked, annoyed.</p><p>Bucky ignored her, got into the driver’s seat and found the keys in the glove compartment. He looked at you and Helena, prompting you to get into the back seat, lay down immediately. As Helena huffed and got in the front, Bucky took his jacket off, tossing it to you in the back.</p><p>“Thank you,” you said, sleepy, pulling the warmth around you.</p><p>…</p><p>“Jesus!” Bucky’s exasperated voice woke you. “Can you just pick something?”</p><p>From the back seat of the car, you watched Helena continue to tune through radio stations until she found something she liked. You’d been asleep, lying uncomfortably, using Helena’s backpack as a pillow and Bucky’s jacket as a blanket. He’d been keeping an eye on you in the rear view mirror. She’d been a little less covert, turning around in her shotgun seat to see if you were still dreaming.</p><p>Sitting up, you still couldn’t say for sure where you were. There was so much snow. Maybe too much for the U.S. at that time of year. “Are we almost there?” you asked.</p><p>Helena snorted. She’d just asked the same question before you woke. You weren’t gonna like the answer.</p><p>“About half way,” Bucky told you.</p><p>You didn’t like it.</p><p>But you didn’t complain.</p><p>Helena settled on a radio station, surprised anything could be broadcast this far into the middle of fucking nowhere. The Rolling Stones played through a song, ending as you approached a roadside rest stop. The sign advertised fuel and coffee. As Bucky pulled in, both you and Helena sat up straight, anticipating the relief of being able to stand.</p><p>Bucky went straight inside, not bothering to fill up. You looked over at Helena, the confusion clear on your face - she shrugged, followed Bucky inside.</p><p>At the counter, Bucky was having a whispered conversation with a woman. She nursed a shotgun in her arms; as soon as Helena clocked it, she was at your side, positioning her body between you and the woman. There was no danger though. The two of you waited, trying to hear, but it became apparent that the language they spoke was not English and the country you were in was not the United States.</p><p>Starting to look around the store, you were searching for clues when Bucky suddenly turned, motioned for you to follow him outside.</p><p>“You gonna start tellin’ us what the fuck is happening?” Helena said, still following him regardless.</p><p>Bucky rounded the corner of the building, came to a halt and pointed. There stood two motorbikes clearly just moved; there was very little snow built up on the machines.</p><p>“Heard you can ride,” Bucky said to Helena, reaching down and picking up a helmet, tossing it to her.</p><p>She caught it with ease, a wild smile spreading across her face; it was equal parts childlike and menacing. You couldn’t help but smile in response. Helena happy was goddamn beautiful.</p><p>“I can ride,” she confirmed, looking at the bikes. “I want that one.”</p><p>Bucky insisted you rode with him. After a crash course in how to be a passenger, what to do in the event of a collision, etc. etc., you were wrapped around Bucky and speeding further and further away from the rest stop.</p><p>You tried to keep track of time, guessing it was about forty to fifty minutes later, you came to a final destination.</p><p>A cabin in the middle of snowy woods. If you looked up 'safe house’ in the dictionary, a picture of that place was surely right there next to it. Half expecting to hear a wolf’s howl, you shivered in the cold, and had to be nudged into movement by Bucky. “Come on, darlin’,” he said, sounding the most relaxed you’d heard him since he untied you from Hammerhead’s chair. “Let’s get you inside.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Right now, I don’t have a set plan for where I want this story to go, but a few people said they’d read it without an ending anyway, and I thought maybe it could ignite some nice daydreams for all you bisexuals with a thing for knives out there… <b>Please let me know if you want me to try to keep going and/or if you have any ideas/requests for where it goes!</b></p><p>
Find me on Tumblr at BuckyReaderRecs.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>